


The Hobbit, The Wizard and the Dragon

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: Cabin Pressure, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Elf!Theresa, F/M, Gen, Hobbit!Martin, Mysterious Wizards are Mysterious, Safe fluff and fear, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin Creiff is a Hobbit who dreams of flying, but all the other hobbits despair at his dreams. Then, a mysterious wizard cloaked in Blue turns up, well, out of the blue, with a magic goblet that could change all that...</p>
<p>A story of Magic, wisdom and Insistence that Benedict Cumberbatch must always play two characters at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hobbit, The Wizard and the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stitchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchy/gifts).



> This little ficlet was written during Stitchy's livestream last night whilst I waited for her to return so as we could say good night and go to bed. I then ended up finishing the fic instead of going to sleep once she came back!
> 
> It was lovingly transcribed by the woman herself, with a few of my grammatical errors and wafflings repaired =)
> 
> I hope you enjoy ^^

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty dirty hole filled with earthworms but…you know that story already?

You know the tale of good Bilbo Baggins who went on an adventure to find gold and riches with a pack of unruly dwarves. What you don’t know is the tale of another hobbit. Shorter than most, even, with bright ginger hair and large blue eyes who dreamed of one thing and one thing only- to be able to fly in the air as birds do. His name was Martin Crieff.  
One day when Martin was tending to his garden a wizard passed on through. He wore robes of bright blue and had a kindly expression. Martin had heard of wizards before, especially Tookish tales of Gandalf the Grey. Being a hospitable sort, Martin offered the tired wizard a cup of tea in his hole, and the wizard gladly accepted.

Over tea Martin revealed his dreams of flying and how jealous he was that a wizard could simply transform himself into a bird or insect and travel on gaily through the air. A cunning look came over the wizard and he thanked Martin for the tea, telling him that he should be careful what he wished for, for you never know how it might come true.

”Oh but I wish it with all my heart!” cried the hobbit.

The wizard simply chuckled and left Martin to dream of the possibilities. Others were not quite so indulging of his fantasy as the wizard had been. He spoke to his work friends about his dream. Douglas (who was rather an overbearing hobbit who thought himself better than most) laughed at his idea saying,

“Well if you really want to fly, we could always put you on a horse and see how high he throws you!”

His boss, Carolyn- simply told him to shut up and concentrate on planting The Marrows. Only Arthur, Carolyn’s son, encouraged the dream. 

“Anything is possible, skip!” he would say.   
“I’ve heard tales of trees which can talk and walk. Giants beasts with long noses and three sets of tusks, and don’t forget magic is real, Skip! I’m sure if you wished hard enough, you’ll be able to fly. One day.”

Time passed in this manner, with Martin hemming and hawing in dissatisfaction with his earthbound little limbs while he tilled the disappointing soil he seemed doomed to trod. Soon every hobbit in the shire was bored of it, at least twice over, and Martin missed the wizard who had at least listened without tutting (too much). Then one day, when Martin had quite forgotten that there might be anyone in Middlearth who could grant his wish, the Blue be-robed wizard appeared again.

“Do you still wish to take flight, like the birds you so envy?”

”Oh more than anything sir!” he cried eagerly

“What would you do in order to achieve this wish?”

“Oh anything sir! Absolutely anything!”

“Well then” said the wizard “take this goblet and set a fire alight in the meadow, at midnight when the rains come, fill the goblet with the rain water, then step into the embers of the flame and say these words.”

He handed Martin a grubby scrap of parchment.

”I can not say these words here, they are filled with magic, to mutter them out of context, well- disastrous consequences could occur.” And with that he left, as is the way with wizards.

Martin should have known better than to trust the mysterious Wizard, but sometimes our dreams are greater than our common sense. So that evening, Martin did as he was told. He turned down Douglas’ invitation to join him at the Green Dragon and Arthur’s for a sleep over and went to the meadow instead.

Once in the meadow he followed the instructions the wizard had given him. He used green branches to create a smoky fire and sat watching it eagerly as the Wizard had said, and soon after the rains broke and doused the flames.

Now, if Martin had been a more observant Hobbit he may have noticed that the goblet was covered in writing, not a simple pattern. And if he had been a wiser hobbit he would have gotten it translated. It was ancient elvish that happened to belong to the dark words of Mordor. It contained magic of the necromancer. Not all Wizards were good, after all.

When Martin read the words, he did not realize their true meaning, but in the mortal tongue they read:

Bind me to the flame  
Let me feel no pain  
Rebirth of fire and scale  
Of tooth and claw  
Rip me raw  
Let me fly once more

As he read his skin turned from a pale white to deep crimson. A tail grew from his spine and a pair of leathery wings broke out from his back. Martin cried out for help. He had not meant for this to happen, but the magic was deep and powerful. He called to the wizard to help him but he was long gone, returned to the shadows of Mirkwood.

So he grew and he grew. His voice became husky and deep, and his throat felt as though it were on fire. As the hobbits in the far off valley celebrated by letting off fire works, Martin himself cried a plume of flame into the air. He had got his wish. But at what cost?

He could never return to the Shire, or see his friends again. His foolishness and his desires had destroyed all that he had once had. Frightened at what he had done and what he had become, he took to the air and fled to the Misty Mountains.

Despite it all- he did love the feel of the wind underneath his wings, the rush of air on his face and the sight of the villages rushing below him. However- he was not very skilled at flight, meaning that he crashed into several villages including that of the unfortunate Dale.

Embarrassed of the destruction he has caused, he went to hide inside the nearby mountain, only to be shot at by dwarves! Confused and angry, he fought his way through to a cavernous tunnel, a cave where gold glistened, and sat and wept large pearly white tears.

“What have I done!?” he cried though it was now a roar, not words.   
“I shall never leave this cave again, for as long as I shall live!”

And there he sat for years to come. Waiting, though not knowing he waited, for someone to break the curse.

And eventually someone did come.

A saviour- in the unlikely shape of an Elven Princess who had accompanied Bilbo and the Dwarves on their Quest to slay the dragon. For you never know when you might need a princess to save you from a dragon.

When she looked into his eyes, blade raised at his throat- she saw not hate or evil, but fear and sorrow. For whilst his body and voice was dragon, she saw clearly the remaining soul. She saw his kind spirit and his shy nature and dropped her sword (by the name of Lichtenstein). She placed her hands on his nose,

“Oh you poor creature, what stray magic has befallen you?”  
Tears welled up in Martin’s large amber eyes. It had been so long since he had heard a friendly voice. At that- the Princess began to cry as well as she bent to kiss him gently on the snout. (In the meantime the Dwarves had become very confused and were exchanging weird looks between each other. But Bilbo pointed out that this was probably some sort of Elvish magic and they began to take the precious gems that surrounded them - oblivious to the touching love story going on around them.)

But they took notice now, for when the Princess kissed the dragon a great ball of water appeared around them like a whirlpool spinning and spinning. When it dropped with a great SPLOSH! there stood in the place of the dragon a small ginger haired hobbit- his flesh still covered in fire red scales…but now so was the princess.

The two scaled beings looked into each others eyes (graciously ignoring the fact that Martin was butt naked) and the elf took him in her arms and they shared in a ferocious kiss. Nearby, Bilbo coughed and he and the party of dwarves turned the backs and discussed the peculiar weather they’d been having.

So in the end-  
Love overcame the dark magic of Mordor.

Bilbo travelled back to the shire with a magic ring which opened up a shit ton of problems (I can tell you enough to fill three books for crying out loud) - but most importantly… More importantly of all- The two scaled lovers lived happily ever after with their 14 children. For after all, this is in the days before Television and you have to do something in the winter months

The End


End file.
